


The ways of our love

by you_make_me_wander



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stydia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/you_make_me_wander/pseuds/you_make_me_wander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia left to spend the summer in France and comes back home to find Stuart, someone who’s not Stiles but is exactly like him. Trying to aid the boy find out why he’s in Beacon Hills with the help of rest of the Pack, relationships and emotions will come to surface, especially for Stiles, who was the one to send Lydia away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed a fic where I can get Stiles and Stuart to bicker and if it’s over Lydia, the better. Stuart will only resemble the character from ‘The Internship’ in looks and sass – this is not a crossover of any sort. His background story will be related to TW and our characters. I won’t get into too much detail on how he got there.  
> Post S4, mostly canon aside from Allison being alive because I’m still in denial and Isaac also being back. There will be lots of angst and jealousy and Stydia feelings. It’s a slow burn, so you’re warned.  
> Happy reading :)

It’s almost ten in the morning when Lydia arrives at Beacon Hills from her trip to France where she spent the summer, ready to start senior year. By now, she already parted ways with Allison, Isaac and Mr. Argent, who went straight to see their friends. As for Lydia, she decided to stop by the grocery shop on her way home to get a slice of her favorite pie so that she can kill that homesick feeling she had for those two months she was away. Meet the pack right away? No, thank you. She’ll avoid it for as long as she can. She’ll get her pie, drive home and make herself comfortable, relax, enjoy the silence…

Not. Of course the first person she’d see when she got back would be _him_. Karma’s a bitch, right?

Lydia froze as soon as she heard his voice. It’s been two whole months since she saw him last and heard the voice of her former best friend. Stiles must be about 20 feet away from her and he’s arguing with someone. Figures. She tries to walk in a slow pace to reach the end of the aisle she’s currently in but her nerves get the best of her and she finds herself almost running. As soon as she lays eyes on him, she feels the need to shorten the distance between them and hug him even if it might hurt her further. She missed him to death. Her heart became both heavier and lighter with each passing day she was away from him. She knew it was for the best that she left, but she couldn’t help the feeling that she was throwing her life away somehow. Yet, Stiles was the one asking her to leave, so she did.

She had taken the offer from Allison to visit France along with her boyfriend and her dad. The brunette knew she could use the distraction and they ended up staying all summer on one of the Argents’ properties. It was hard for Lydia to leave but she had to make a decision. If she had stayed, it would have been harder on both her and Stiles and the boy had pulled her strings, making it easier for her to choose to leave. He only talked to her once for the entirety of those two months, right when the group landed in Paris, just to make sure they (and not Lydia specifically) got there okay. All she heard about him for the rest of her vacation she was told by the others.

Lydia doesn’t know what hurt her the most: knowing that she had to leave or that Stiles was the one who asked her to. But she got herself together and she’s better; she doesn’t need him. Or does she? Because she’s looking at him right now and she’s not so sure. Bad as it was when they argued the last time they were together – yelling and crying swiftly cross her mind -, she’s willing to forgive him just so she can talk to him again. Hell, he’s forgiven already.

She gets closer cautiously. His back is facing her, so he hasn’t seen her yet. She first notices how tall he looks. He was already tall, of course, and probably didn’t grow up that much in the last two months; maybe she just missed how much taller he is in comparison to her. And he’s wearing glasses, she notices, which is odd. No one in the pack mentioned that. Also, his hair looks a little different but he still looks good; he always looks good to her. Phone in his hand, he’s disagreeing with a woman. If she hadn’t heard the sound of her own voice, even if barely, Lydia wouldn’t acknowledge that she actually spoke. “Stiles?”

He turns around quickly, looking at her from head to toe. “You too?” He looks confused between Lydia and the cashier. “What the hell is a Stiles?”

She furrows her brows. “What?”

Ms. Jones, an incredibly nice, middle aged woman who had owned that store ever since Lydia can remember and even before that, looks at the strawberry blonde in disbelief. “Ms. Martin,” she says, “I don’t know what’s going on but Mr. Stilinski here says he’s neither himself nor the Sheriff’s son. Also, I apparently am a man and don’t work here, according to him. Is he on something? Because if he is, I’m calling the Sheriff right now.”

Lydia can feel something is different; Stiles is looking at her like he’s never seen her before. She steps closer, trying to reach for him. “Stiles, are you okay? Where’s Malia?” Thankfully, the bitter tone on Lydia’s voice at the mention of that name is disguised by concern. She wouldn’t want to fight with him, not when she just got back.

“I’m fine,” he replies, stepping away from her. “I don’t know what a Stiles is or who the hell is Malia. Nor you. Who are you again?”

Lydia’s stomach drops and her voice comes out hoarse. “Is this some sort of joke? Because this is not funny in the slightest, Stiles.” He can’t be doing this to her, right?

He seems to notice how heavy Lydia’s features suddenly turned and looks at her apologetic. “There’s got to be some misunderstanding here because whoever that Stiles is – such a weird name, by the way -, is not me. And I’m sure if I knew who you were, I wouldn’t forget it,” he murmurs addressing Lydia, blushing slightly.

Lydia tries to think of something fast because the woman is already reaching for her phone, probably to talk to the Sheriff. Whatever is going on, Stiles probably doesn’t need to get in any more trouble with his dad. “Uh, I got this, Ms. Jones. I’ll take him home.” Lydia reaches for his arm and glances at him briefly, but he doesn’t understand what she’s trying to do and lets go of her grip. Lydia feels embarrassed at his rejection.

“I just came in to buy some water. I don’t know what’s going on here but I really just needed something to drink, so I’m gonna go. Thanks, have a nice day,” he says, glancing at the cashier, his tone a little annoyed. Placing the money on the counter and grabbing the bottle of water, the boy leaves the store, leaving the two women openmouthed behind him.

“I’m gonna call the Sheriff,” the woman says.

“Oh,” Lydia tries to turn the situation around, “you know Stiles, always pulling pranks and being funny. I’m sure he was just joking. I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” Lydia says, smiling warmly.

The woman frowns but lets Lydia have her way. “I’m glad you’re back, Ms. Martin. Has been crazy around here.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Lydia runs out of the store as fast as she can to get to the boy until she’s right in front of him, making him come to a halt abruptly not to bump into her, almost dropping his phone on the ground.

“What the hell was that?” she almost yells. Almost; the memories of their last argument still echo in her mind.

“I should ask you that,” he retorts. “Whoever you’re looking for, I’m not the guy. I already told that to the lady, I don’t know why she didn’t believe me.”

“Are you serious?” She’s trying, Lydia’s really trying not to lose it because how the hell does he keep hurting her when they haven’t talked for two months?

“Okay, just so we’re clear, something’s wrong, because last night I was home and today I don’t remember waking up, let alone how I got here. And I’m also pretty sure that that grocery store only had one owner in the last forty years and it’s Mr. Thompson and he’s not a woman, at least last I checked, so I’m not really sure what to tell you.” The boy’s cheeks turned red as he rambled, gesturing excessively, a sarcastic tone on his voice. It’s Stiles, Lydia is sure. It’s such a Stiles thing to do, right? At least it looks like him but Lydia is inclined to agree with the boy because something does seem off. “You still haven’t told me your name,” he ventures, smiling shyly. He holds out his hand. “I’m Stuart.”

Lydia’s breath catches in her throat and she doesn’t know what to do, except stare at the boy and whisper. “Stiles, I know we are not talking but if this is some sort of payback or a joke, I-” Lydia gasps. “Stiles, I don’t know if I can handle that.”

The boy is selfless even if he usually hides it away, but he finds himself reaching out for Lydia’s hand to comfort the girl who’s now teary - which is actually weird because he doesn’t trust people like that, specially someone he has never met before. “Hey, are you okay? You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because I can’t watch a girl cry without crying too.”

Not only does he sounds and looks like Stiles, but he feels like him. And still, even when he holds her hand just like Stiles used to, she knows something is different, even if she can’t quite put her finger on it. She shakes her head slowly. “No, sorry.” Lydia takes her hand away slowly, as to keep the memory of his touch at bay, and stands straighter. “So, you’re Stuart? Not Stiles?”

“Who the hell is this Stiles guy, anyway? I’m Stuart, have always been Stuart as far as I’m aware. Pretty sure I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never heard of that guy.”

“What’s the last thing you remember before this morning?”

“I- I don’t’ know. I went to sleep like always but as I’ve said, I don’t remember waking up.  I was just here, walking down the road, and I saw the grocery store so I went in. The woman…”

“Ms. Jones.”

“Yeah. She asked me how I was doing and asked about my dad, which I just hope was a joke because that’s what’s not funny here, and called me Stiles, so I told her that…”

“You’re not him.” It comes out as a realization. She doesn’t know how or why but this is not Stiles, her Stiles. Lydia’s mind is spinning.

“Yes! And I’m freaking out a little and she wasn’t being very helpful so I just wanted to leave. That’s when you came in.”

She takes a minute to think, rearrange her thoughts. “So you got here on foot?” The boy nods. “And is there somewhere you need to be?”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here, so I’d say no,” the boy chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think I might be able to help you, or at least try and find some answers, but you’d have to trust me.”

He laughs, grinning at her, cheeks bright red. “Wow, now that’s not suspicious. A beautiful girl asking me to trust her? Either it’s a hell of a compliment and a huge vote of confidence or a trap.”

Lydia blushes. Can he sound more like Stiles? “Not a trap, I promise. The thing is you are the exact copy of someone I know. That’s why both I and Ms. Jones mistook you for him. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to roam around town looking like someone you’re not. At least not until we figure it out.” She regrets her choice of words immediately.

“That Stiles guy? How did you get to know someone with a name like that?” he asks amused.

She purses her lips. “Long story. So uh, think you can trust me?”

“As long as you don’t murder me or something like that, I think it’ll be okay.”

“I have my car parked right over there,” Lydia points in its direction. “Would you mind if I took you somewhere? There are people who need to know about you.” It has to sound weird to the boy, the way she’s laying out her cards, but what’s she supposed to do? The pack has to know about him. That’s all she can think of and it’s not like she knows what she’s doing. “I mean, you just showed up here. There has to be something going on and I don’t know what happened or why you’re here, but there might be some things you’ll also need to hear about.”

She looks serious, so he starts walking in the direction she said her car was. He can’t really tell why but he feels like he can trust her. And okay, she’s gorgeous and he’s not used to get attention from pretty girls which is why this might be a terrible idea, but it’s not like he has anything better to do, so whatever. “Who are we meeting?”

“My friends. We call it a pack.”

“Oh.” The boy pauses his speech, looking down as he walks. “Are there too many of them? Because my interpersonal communication skills are not that great, just, you know, FYI.”

He looks flushed and avoids looking at her. “It’s not a small group, but it’ll be fine,” she smiles, trying to reassure him.

“Is he uh… Is the guy gonna be there?”

Lydia purses her lips, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Probably.”

He noticed how uptight she was about him. Not Stuart; Stiles, the guy with the weird name. Still, he chooses not to say anything for now. She seemed sad about it. “Should be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as she gets in her car with the boy, Lydia puts her phone on speaker so she can talk to Scott while driving. The alpha answers at the third ring, extremely excited to see the banshee is calling him so soon. He knew she didn’t want to face everyone right away but hell, he’ll try and make it happen. Stiles didn’t have such a great summer either and Scott knows this thing between them will need a solution and fast or it’ll blow in their faces. “Hey, Lydia.” He tries to take advantage of the fact that he is with his best friend to see how they’ll both react. “Wait, let me put you on speaker.”

“No, Scott, don’t,” she asks to no avail. She can already hear other voices more clearly and no, not just in her head.

“Oh, come on Lydia. Everyone is excited to hear from you.” Emphasis on the word _everyone_.

She can hear the smile in his voice but this is not the time. “McCall, off speaker, now.”

Before Lydia can help it, Stuart speaks, looking stunned. “McCall? Scott McCall? I know him.”

Lydia still whispered a _No_ , trying to get the boy next to her to not say anything else but Scott, of course, heard and it wasn’t just him. “Lydia?” he asks, inquisitive.

Almost at the same time, Stiles speaks too. “Who’s that?”

Lydia’s breath catches in her throat when she hears him. It’s been too long. She is sure Stiles recognized the voice the same way Stuart did. Stuart looks at her and whispers. “Is that…”

Lydia nods. “Scott, off speaker, right now!”

She hears muffled noises and assumes the Alpha is doing as he is told. In the meantime, she asks Stuart to keep quiet. When Scott finally says something again – after having to distance himself from Stiles who’s actively trying to listen in -, he sounds concerned. “Lydia, what’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

“The loft. Why?”

“Who’s with you?”

“Only Derek and Stiles, but Isaac and Allison should be arriving any minute now. Why?”

Stuart must have recognized someone else’s name but as he promised to Lydia, he keeps his mouth shut. “Something happened. I’ll be there in five but I’ll need you downstairs before I go in. I’m taking someone with me.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure how to tell you. It’ll be easier if you see for yourself, I think. But Stiles can’t come with you.”

Scott has to once again step away from his best friend, who heard the banshee say his name. “Lydia…”

“This is not about Stiles and I, Scott, but it is about him. Five minutes, downstairs. Maybe bring Allison with you. Someone needs to make sure Stiles doesn’t come down.”

“Then we’re doing it the other way around and I’ll leave Allison with him. There’s no way he’ll be alone with Derek and Isaac.”

“Alright, fine. In the meantime, call everyone.”

“Everyone?” His tone is a little panicked.

“Oh god, Scott, yes. What did I just tell you?” She’s growing exasperated, edgy. The thought of seeing the actual Stiles so soon is not working so well for her. She smiles apologetic at Stuart, who remains quiet.

Scott gets worried. “Lydia, is this something supern-”

“Scott!” she interrupts him. If Stuart picked up on what Scott was going to say, he doesn’t show it. “Just… Do as I told you. I’ll be right there.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Stuart remains in silence for the rest of the short trip. He has to be freaking out, Lydia thinks. A girl he’s never met before picked him up and is taking him to see a lot of people who, according to her, will be interested to find out about him. If it were Lydia, she had probably thrown herself out of the car by now.

“So, Lydia.”

“Mm?”

“Your name. Lydia. You hadn’t told me that yet.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She starts slowing down her speed. “I’m really sorry about all this,” she says, smiling sadly. If what the boy told her is true, this is not _his_ city and he doesn’t know how or why he got here. She parks outside Derek’s building, far away enough for Stiles, who’s probably at the window, not to see who’s in the car.

He seems to get what she meant and smiles back, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s okay. I don’t know what I’m doing either so…”

“Could you please wait for me in the car? I’d like to have a word with them before they see you.” Lydia really hopes this is not a scam of some sort. She just got to drive her car back and she wouldn’t want it to be stolen. Still, like Stuart, she feels like she can trust him.

“Yeah, I guess.” He bites his lower lip nervously. “Just please don’t take too long. This whole situation is making me anxious and I have panic attacks sometimes. I wouldn’t want you to come back to your car to find a dead body.”

Lydia chuckles. That sounded like Stiles. “I won’t. It’ll be quick, I promise.” She’d noticed the boy had had his phone on his hand the entire trip, always tapping his fingers on the screen and that is something that’s not so much like Stiles. She asks the question not only out of curiosity but also because Stuart being here can be a good, bad or neutral situation and she’s not sure which one yet. The more she can find out about him, the better. “Have you tried contacting someone?” Then she admits things might be different where he came from. “Do you even have any service?”

The boy looks down at his phone disappointed. “I have signal but I tried checking everything and nothing comes up. I have no contacts on my phone, text messages, photos. Tried connecting to the internet and I can actually access to it, but apparently my bank account doesn’t exist and neither do my online accounts.”

The boy frowns by the end of the sentence and Lydia notices. “What online accounts?”

“You know, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook. It’s kind of my thing. I’m online pretty much whenever I can and now I don’t even exist there.” Lydia smiles at him comfortingly, but the boy is uneasy. “And before you say something, yes, I don’t have many friends and I’m pathetic. No need to rub it in my face.” He didn’t mean to sound harsh but the truth is almost no one ever values him. Why would she be any different?

“Oh, I wasn’t going to.” Lydia instinctively reaches out for his hand and squeezes it softly. “We all deal with our things the way we can. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it.”

She smiles and he trusts her sincerity. But what would she even know about being lonely? He’s about to say something but, far away enough that Stuart can only distinguish three figures, he sees who she probably wants to meet. He nods in their direction. “Look. Is it them?”

Lydia turns around on her seat to check. It can only be them. “Yes. So, will you wait for me here, please?”

“Yes.”

He seems to be telling the truth. “Okay. Maybe we can continue our conversation later?” She can’t deny she’s interested to know more about him.

He smiles shyly. “I’d like that.”

She smiles back. “I’ll be right back then.”

xxxxxxxxxx

The boys wait for her at the building’s entrance and Lydia shortens the distance between them quickly. Scott did as she told him and is tailed by Derek and Isaac. She knows Scott is about to hug her with that stupid, cute grin on his face and his puppy dog eyes and she missed her friend, but they can reconnect later.

She stops right in front of them, crossing her arms in front of her. “Hey guys.”

Scott notices she’s defensive, so he holds back. “Lydia!”

She gets right down to it. “We have a problem. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a problem, but more of a situation.”

Isaac is trying to see who’s in her car but they are too far away from it. “Who is that? We left you like half an hour ago.”

She turns to him, but motions for the three boys to follow her as she walks back to her car. “I was gonna get some pie and go home, right?” Isaac nods. “Well, at the grocery store, I thought I found Stiles but…”

Derek interrupts her. “Stiles is upstairs.”

“I know that now, but I didn’t when I found _him_ ,” she says, pointing in her car’s direction. “I thought it actually was Stiles but he wasn’t making sense. He kept saying his name is not Stiles and that he didn’t know me or how he got here…”

She starts rambling. They are halfway when Derek grabs her arm, making her stop suddenly. Being the more experienced werewolf of the trio, he’s the first one to catch the scent. “Stop.” The other two boys follow suit.

She looks up at him in confusion. “What?”

Derek’s eyes are glowing. “Werewolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! :) I’m you-make-me-wander on tumblr <3


	3. Chapter 3

At Derek’s words, Scott and Isaac become more alert while Lydia just looks from Derek to her car. Almost at the same time Derek noticed the scent of the supernatural creature, Stuart opened the door and got out of the vehicle.

“So, you actually meant a pack? I thought it was just an expression. Hell of a coincidence but still… You run with wolves?” he asks skeptic, making his way towards Lydia cautiously.

Lydia meets him halfway but she walks alone. Her three werewolves are frozen in place looking at a boy they could swear they just left in the building behind them. “You’re a werewolf?” she asks, her voice a little faint. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“Why would I? No offense but in good honesty, I don’t know you, remember?” he says, blushing slightly.

“Oh, right.” He’s got a point. “Okay, so this is weirder than I thought…” Lydia turns around to look for her pack but they are still a few steps away from her, dumbstruck. She encourages Stuart to walk with her. “Guys, this is who I was telling you about. Looks like Stiles, sounds like him but obviously is not. His name is Stuart.”

As the group gets closer, Derek’s eyes are still glowing, as are Isaac’s and Scott’s now. In reaction, Stuart’s eyes brighten up to a beautiful shade of yellow, something Lydia never thought she’d see on Stiles’ features. Stuart himself is speechless at the sight of the pack.

Derek is the first one to react. “You’re a beta.”

The boy stutters, tilting his head like he’s trying to figure something out, his eyes turning to their normal color. “Derek? Your eyes, they… They are red but now... H- How?”

Everyone looks at Stuart abruptly. Derek gets edgy and steps forward, but Lydia comes between him and Stuart. No one will be hurting the boy on her watch. “How did you know that?” Derek asks.

Stuart doesn’t move, afraid he’ll initiate a fight. “I- I know you. Well, other you, I guess. You’re my Alpha.” No one answers to that. “And I knew a Scott too, but you look different,” he adds looking at Scott.

Isaac is awed. “But Stiles…” He looks back at the building. “I- He… I don’t understand.”

Derek turns to face Lydia, waiting for some sort of an explanation. She just shrugs her shoulders. “I found him and thought he was Stiles. He’s not. Figured he should be out of the streets before someone else finds him. Now, can we go inside? This is really not a conversation to be having out in your parking lot.”

Derek considers it for a brief moment, glancing at Scott for instructions. He doesn’t know why but he doesn’t distrust the kid and let’s face it, Derek rarely trusts anyone. But Scott is the Alpha after all, even when he’s still looking at his best friend – no, a copy of him apparently – dazzled.

“Is he gonna stop staring?” Stuart asks Lydia timidly, hiding his hands in his pockets to disguise his nervousness. “It’s making me feel a little self-conscious.”

Lydia snaps her fingers in front of Scott. “Hey. Scott, we need to move. We are out in the open and we don’t know what’s going on.”

Scott shakes his head, rearranging his thoughts. “Of course, right. Let’s go.”

They walk in silence towards the building. Lydia stands beside Stuart, sometimes pursing her lips in a smile to encourage the boy. Derek walks on the other side of Lydia, just in case something happens. Scott and Isaac are pacing in front of them, Scott trying not to look back at the form of who’s not his best friend and Isaac doing the exact opposite, sneaking glances every now and then like he’s making sure his mind is not playing a trick on him.

When they’re by the entrance of Derek’s building, Lydia makes them stop. “Wait. What do we tell Stiles? How do we do it?”

Everyone turns to Scott. “Why are you all looking at me?” he asks. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Well, neither do I,” she says. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll freak out.” All of them agree with her words not only because of Stiles but because it’s more of a general feeling.

“Maybe Scott and Isaac can go in first,” Derek suggests, “and…”

“Oh, I’m staying with Lydia,” Isaac offers. “I’m not leaving her side in there.” Lydia smiles appreciatively. She grew closer to Isaac over the summer and both he and Allison know what she went through after what happened with Stiles. Isaac makes his way to her side and holds Lydia’s hand, turning towards her. “Actually, I don’t think you should go in. Maybe it’s too soon,” he says in a hushed tone. “You don’t have to see him right away…”

Lydia squeezes Isaac’s hand in return. It’s something they’ve grown comfortable with when Lydia would cry before she went to sleep some nights during the last two months. Both, either Isaac or Allison, would keep her company as she cried silently, thinking about things. And it wasn’t a desperate cry – that was what the first week was about -, but Lydia couldn’t help it. She felt sad, she felt hollow and it was her way of dealing with everything. They’d hold her hand and talk to her about other things to distract her. She was nothing but grateful to them. “I think it’s okay. I’d have to see him eventually. And I did, sort of. I mean, it was Stuart, but still… I- I just…” She turns to Scott. “I don’t think I can talk to him.”

“But Lydia, you’ll have to talk,” Scott tries. It breaks his heart seeing two of his best friends like this. “You don’t know how it’s been…”

Lydia is about to interrupt his speech but Isaac beats her to it. “Neither do you. If Lydia wants to go upstairs it’s her decision, but you can’t make her talk to him. And if he tries something, he’ll have to deal with me. Also Allison. And he should be scared of Allison, she got new daggers.”

Lydia looks at him almost proud. Take her two years back in her life and she wouldn’t have all the friends she has now. Then again, she wouldn’t be in this mess either. “I’m glad that Stuart isn’t Stiles, no offense,” she says gesturing towards Stuart.

He’s taken by surprise that someone’s talking to him. He was engrossed in the pack’s interactions. “Oh, none taken.”

She continues. “At the store I felt like something was off. Even if he sounded like Stiles and looked like him, he…” She tightens the grip on Isaac’s hand. “Stuart wasn’t looking at me like I know Stiles will. And I don’t know if I can handle that, Scott, let alone talk to him. Like, really talk.”

Stuart addresses her. “Hey, if this is about me, you don’t have to come. I can go with just them if they’re okay with it.” She seems unsure. “I really need to figure out what’s going on and if you’re a pack and evidently know about the supernatural, you guys might be my best chance at getting some answers to what’s happening. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to come along…”

She interrupts him. “I’m the one who found you. I’m not leaving you.”

“If that’s set I think we should start moving and fast,” Derek mumbles. “I think I can hear Allison and Stiles arguing.”

With reluctant nods, the group heads upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

The yelling becomes more evident as the group walks up the stairs. Lydia can’t quite understand the words that are being said and maybe that’s a good thing; already hearing Stiles’ voice is making her feel uneasy, almost nauseous. Scott is leading the way upstairs; he’ll go in first with Derek, followed by Isaac and Lydia, then Stuart. Lydia slows down her pace to give Scott and Derek enough time to talk some sense into Allison and Stiles, break them apart if they have to (the argument does sound heated). Scott, who was listening in on it, kept exchanging concerned looks with Isaac before disappearing with Derek into the loft.

The others wait outside the door for almost a minute. Someone inside might have said something because Isaac and Stuart both nod at the same time. Isaac looks down at Lydia, a little concerned. “You really don’t have to do this.”

Lydia shakes her head and takes a deep breath. Still holding Isaac’s hand and leaving Stuart behind them for another minute, Lydia steps forward and opens the door. And he’s right there, _her_ Stiles, with cheeks flushed and heavy breathing probably from all the arguing, looking back at her like she knew he would. His eyes are not sparkling and there’s not a smile on his face. He looks desperate; dead, at the lack of a better word. A tear rolls down his cheek and it takes Lydia all the strength she has not to go over there and wipe it away.

Stiles wants to run to her and make things right. Apologize over and over again until he can’t anymore. Just looking at her is killing him. He’s thought about this moment every single day that she’s been away and it’s still better and worse than he expected. He’s thankful that she’s back, that she’s just ten feet away from him. Even if he doesn’t like to admit it, he had accepted she might not come back to Beacon Hills, to the pack, to him. She’s Lydia Martin after all. Why would she come back? Her whole life is ahead of her and what does the city, the pack, Stiles himself have to offer her? And even if he’s glad she did come back, it hurts. It hurts so much it’s like there’s this tangible force ripping his heart out of his chest and throwing it to the floor where it can be stepped on and even if Stiles knows, deep inside, he could fight this feeling off by just talking to Lydia, not a word comes out.

No one says anything. Even if they wanted to, they probably couldn’t. It’s like all the air was sucked out of the room and to Lydia the silence is unbearable; it’s consuming her and she wants nothing but to scream. Her grip on Isaac’s hand is so tight it’s making the werewolf uncomfortable. Her voice comes out unsteady. “S- Scott?”

The Alpha nods slowly. “Stiles, I think you should sit down.” Stiles is mostly unresponsive just looking at the strawberry-blonde like he’s afraid she’ll vanish if he looks away. Scott walks until he’s behind his best friend and, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders, leads him towards the couch, making him sit. “Stiles, there’s something we have to show you. I mean, someone…”

“Scott, just…” Lydia lets out the words like she’s exhausted and in good honesty, she just wants to get it over with and leave. And she knows Scott; he’ll mumble and go around the truth trying to find a better way to explain the situation and won’t actually say it like he should. She’s not in the mood for it; she’s not even looking at Stiles and she knows his eyes haven’t left her. It’s making her edgy. “Stuart, just come in. It’s okay.”

Everyone is speechless as the two replicas are finally in the same room face to face. While everyone is looking at Stuart, Lydia is looking at Stiles. She watches his face go from cruel suffering to bewilderment in a second. He gets up from the couch instantly, of course, but voiceless. He does open and close his mouth several times but his mind is blank. Same can be said for Stuart because they are literally mirroring each other.

“W- What the…?” Allison stutters.

xxxxxxxxxx

It takes them a long time to sort it out. In that time, Stiles and Stuart walked around the other several times trying to figure out similarities. Actually, differences, because they are pretty much the same. Moles on the same spots, same height, same eye and hair color, even the way they gesture too much when they ramble. From what’s at sight, they seem the same. Everyone got their round to look closely at the two of them, searching for the same things. Stiles is overwhelmed. Lydia being here and then this might be too much for him. Stuart is apprehensive, mostly because he doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s completely surrounded by a whole pack of supernatural creatures.

Lydia explained in detail what she encountered back at the grocery store with the help of Stuart and everyone listened attentively. When she’s finished, no one really knows what to assume.

“So… What are we thinking?” Stiles is sitting next to Stuart on the couch and looks down at his hands. The question was for Lydia, no doubt about it, but Stiles leaves it in the air afraid she won’t answer him.

She knows he’s talking to her and absentmindedly she bites her lip, looking down at her hands too, blush covering her cheeks. Her hands are shaking slightly. “I’m thinking alternative reality or a parallel universe or something like that. Maybe witchcraft. It’s all I can come up with,” she whispers. “Did uh-” She doesn’t necessarily want to talk to Stiles directly but they are the ones who usually figure things out, so… “Did anything feel different last night? Did something happen?”

Stiles shakes his head slowly, not looking up. “No. I mean, I don’t think so…” He’s interrupted by the sound of his phone beeping and checks the text message. “My dad can’t come right now,” he informs Scott. They had messaged everyone to get to the loft so that all the pack could be on the same page. Up until now, only Kira and Liam had showed up – and the group got a ‘ _oh shit’_ from her, the Kitsune that never swears, ever, at the sight of the duo. “He’s got a case, can’t leave the Station right now. Parrish too.”

“Say that again,” Stuart asks.

“What?” Stiles looks at him confused.

The boy is curious. Looks hopeful, even. “You said ‘dad’. And station. What station are you talking about?”

It’s weird to Stiles to be talking to, well, himself, sort of. But it’s not like he has much of a choice. “My dad’s the Sheriff here in Beacon Hills. He knows about the supernatural, like us.”

Stuart stops breathing and looks back at Stiles somewhat offended. “Is…” He starts breathing heavy. “Is this a joke?”

Stiles keeps his confused expression. “What?”

The boy takes a moment to think, rearrange thoughts. “My dad, he…” Stuart feels like he’s choking on his own words. “He died when I was three. I never met him,” he says in a hushed tone. “I guess I just assumed yours had too. This is all so weird.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Now Stiles is the one curious. “But wait, who do you live with then?”

“My mom,” Stuart answers nonchalantly. Seeing Stiles speechless has to mean something, Stuart has figured that much out already. “Why?”

“My mom died when I was eight.”

The air in the room was already charged with bafflement and other mixed feelings about the current situation. Now it’s mostly sadness. “I’m sorry too,” Stuart says, giving Stiles a sympathetic smile that the boy gives back.

“I’m gonna go ahead and talk to Deaton, see if he knows something. At least until then, I don’t think it’s wise for both of you to wander around town, you know? Might raise suspicions.” Both Stiles and Stuart nod at Scott’s words.

“I don’t want to trouble anyone but it’s not like I have a place to go, really,” Stuart says shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you suggest?”

“You could stay with me.” Both Scott and Lydia offer at the same time. Stiles just stares at the ground, keeping his opinion to himself.

“Actually, I think he should stay with me,” says Derek. “The loft is farther away from downtown so there’s least chance of someone catching sight of both of you, and if I am really your Alpha, wherever you came from, then there’s a lot we need to talk about. The pack usually meets here anyway so I’d say it’s a good option, I guess.”

Stuart takes his words into consideration. Only from their brief interaction, he can say his Alpha is most certainly not the werewolf that’s standing in front of him but Stuart wants to know more about him. How can two people who are essentially the same be so different? His Derek is nothing like this one. “Would that be okay? I really don’t want to bother…”

“It’ll be fine.” Derek throws Stuart a half smile that catches everyone off guard, even himself. He can’t say why but he feels like he knows the kid. It’s weird. He turns to the rest of the pack. “Maybe we should all get together later? Preferably with everyone. All of us should be on the same page.”

Scott agrees. “Yeah. This is gonna be so fun to explain to your dad,” he chuckles, nodding towards Stiles.

“There will come a day when something will be too much for him and he’ll be done with all this supernatural shit. Seeing two of us will probably be it,” Stiles admits, rubbing his temples to try and dissipate his headache. “But his face…” his smile is so small it’s almost imperceptible. “His face will be priceless.”

Everyone laughs lowly. The Sheriff does have some of the best facial expressions. “Then we’ll meet here after lunch?” Scott suggests. Everyone nods. “I’ll go meet Deaton with Kira and Liam. He’ll probably tag along to see for himself.”

“And we’ll go home. We still have to unpack,” says Allison, walking towards Isaac and Lydia and grabbing her best friend’s free hand. “We should talk to our parents, see if they know something.”

“And I’ll call my dad to see when he and Parrish can make it,” says Stiles.

“Oh and my mom,” Scott remembers. “Her shift ends at 1pm.”

“I can pick her up,” Lydia offers quickly. “I’ll drive her.” She wants to talk to Melissa so it’s a win-win.

“Okay, thanks.” Scott smiles at the banshee. “I guess that’s everyone.” It’s not, of course. Malia is still untouched subject but no one seems to want to bring her up. Scott looks at Derek like some sort of warning and the werewolf nods to the unspoken conversation, reassuring the Alpha that everything will be okay. “We’ll see you guys later, then.”

Scott, Kira and Liam walk out first, Allison and Isaac next. Lydia stays for another minute to give Stuart a word of encouragement. “We won’t be long. And Derek here,” she nods in his direction, “is not as bad as he seems, promise,” she says with a smile. Derek rolls his eyes. “Give me your phone.” Stuart complies. “This is my number. If you need anything just give me a call, alright? I won’t be far.”

“Thanks, though I don’t know if it’ll work.” He tries to call her. Lydia’s cellphone rings. “It does. Great.” For a moment Stuart almost seems more excited that his phone is working than that he just got the number of the strawberry blonde.

Already starting to walk away, Lydia looks back at Derek. “Call if you need anything.” Then she gets out of there as fast as she can.

Stiles, who decided to stay at the loft a little longer to talk to Stuart some more, sees Lydia walk away without even a glance back at him. Fidgeting on his lap nervously, he has to fight the urge to start crying again. Stuart doesn’t say anything; it’s weird seeing himself, well, Stiles, in such misery but he doesn’t know what to do. Derek, on the other hand, makes his way towards Stiles and crosses his arms in front of his chest when he’s right in front of the boy.

Stiles looks up at him, slightly intimidated. “What do you want?” He says with a bitter tone.

“I had to watch you whine all summer. It wasn’t necessarily pleasant. So I want you to get off your ass and go talk to her.”

“W- What?”

“Either you get up or I’m throwing you out the window so you can reach her car before she can.”

Stiles gets up, red all over his cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe I don’t. But my house, my rules, remember?” Stiles is taken aback by his comment and nods slowly. Derek stands straighter to prove his point. “Move. Go.” Stiles almost trips as he starts running downstairs.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lydia was already expecting him to come after her. When she hears the building’s door open far behind her, Lydia stops on her tracks. She’s almost at her car, she could easily get away from him; still, she stays put. Stiles stops running when he’s right behind her but she doesn’t turn around and that’s okay. He’s not feeling particularly strong to face her either. They keep their tears from falling.

“If it’s forgiveness you need,” Lydia murmurs, “you have it. I forgive you, Stiles.” And she means it. No one does a guilt trip like Stiles; she’ll be damned it she’s the cause of another one.

His voice comes out hoarse. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

Lydia turns to face him. “I want to,” she whispers, looking into his eyes. It burns, their gaze.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he lets out.

The words fill her heart and for a second she considers shortening their distance to hug him but she can’t; nothing’s changed. Lydia takes a step back. “I- I can’t...” Another step away from him. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go.”

And with that, Stiles watches her as Lydia walks away from him for the second time that day. They both cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a little insight on what happened before Lydia left for France. It has light mentions of what Lydia did, which technically resulted in her following up on a plan to save Stiles that lead to her demise and consequent revival. I wasn't sure how to tag it because it’s not graphic but it might still be a trigger warning for someone, just thought I’d give you a heads up.

The banshee doesn’t go home. Instead, she drives straight to the hospital and asks one of the receptionists to let Melissa know that Lydia will be picking her up. Until the nurse’s shift is over, Lydia waits in her car alone with her thoughts, fingers tapping on the wheel anxiously the whole time as she tries to keep her tears at bay. When Melissa finds her, the redhead is almost in a trance.

Lydia offers to pay for lunch and Melissa reluctantly accepts it, not before hugging Lydia tight and telling her how much she’s been missed in the past weeks. They settle for a small diner on their way to Derek’s and while they’re waiting for their food, sitting on a cornered booth and mostly away from prying eyes and ears, Lydia explains to Melissa all about Stuart. As expected, Melissa is a little skeptical at first so Lydia tells her what happened at the loft. They agree that Melissa will have to see with her own eyes to believe it.

They are already eating when Melissa pops the inevitable question. “So, have you talked to Stiles already?”

Lydia lowers her gaze, her throat feeling a little dry. Her voice trembles.  “Just barely. I- I uh…”

Melissa gives her one of her famous Mama McCall smiles. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can talk to me.”

Lydia purses her lips in a thin line, taking a deep breath to try and calm her nerves but she can feel the wetness swiftly forming in her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him,” she whispers. “What am I supposed to say to him?” she asks, pleads in a shaky tone. Tears start to roll down her cheeks as she breaks down, sobbing in a silent crying.

“Oh honey.” Melissa gets up and rushes to Lydia’s side of the booth and the girl moves over, making space for the older woman. Melissa hugs her close, her fingers running through strawberry blonde locks soothingly as she murmurs comforting words. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay, you both will.”

“I had to do it, I had to…”

“Shh I know…” Melissa only found out about what had happened between Stiles and Lydia when the girl was already on the plane to France. After that, she gave such a lecture to Stiles that the boy avoided her gaze for a whole week. “He knows too, Lydia. He knows you had to do it.”

“He was so mad at me,” Lydia pouts, wiping away some of her tears. “But I had to do it, I had to save him.”

“He knows that. And he doesn’t blame you, honey…”

“But he won’t forgive me. He’ll never forgive me but I had to save him." She pauses for a second to try and even out her breathing. "I’d do it all over again,” she states resolute as she remembers the events.

The pack had been faced with another supernatural threat; another that went after Stiles for his intellect, this time one from the realm of the dead that couldn’t be seen or heard, only felt. The boy had been on the verge of losing his mind all over again. It had attacked him aggressively twice and in between those times and after the second one, Stiles would feel incredibly tired, mostly melancholic and almost unable to talk. The first time he was attacked Stiles was unconscious for over 24 hours and the second time he fell ill during a whole weekend, in the beginning struck with dizziness, then hypothermia, incoherence, nausea and violent migraines. And that was before he started bleeding nonstop from his eyes in a slow, agonizing rhythm as whatever that sort of spirit was consumed him, his mind and his soul. And just as violently as it began, it stopped; Lydia wouldn’t have it a third time. Only she knows how many hours of sleep she lost to find some sort of a plan, to come up with something that could save him. When she did find something, she went to Deaton to try and get some confirmation, some sign that it could actually work. Her sleep deprived self wasn't sure that it was even an option but alas it was, her only in fact. Stiles didn’t even have a month left.

It was a ritual, and one that required a connection to the dead and Lydia, being a Banshee, didn't think twice about it. Deaton advised Lydia not to go through with it, that she’d be walking to her certain death but she didn’t listen; she only pretended she did to not be stopped. She’d do anything she could to save Stiles and Deaton said it would. She didn’t tell anyone about it. It took her two weeks of seeing Stiles languish under her gaze as she found all the ingredients while waiting for the precise moment to perform the ritual, on the next full moon. In the meantime and aside from school, she stayed away from the pack so that no one could pick up on her mood, on her fear for what was about to happen. She excused herself with being senior year and saying she needed to study, that she’d do better alone.

On the day of the full moon, Lydia wrote a letter to her mom that she kept under her pillow – the woman would find it eventually and it certainly lacked explanations for what she’d find but that’s all Lydia could give her – along with another for Stiles. The whole day she kept her phone turned off to make sure nothing would stop her. After driving to the woods, she left her car near the main road where it would be easy to spot by the police as soon as someone would report her disappearance. She even left a map on the driver’s seat marking the exact place she’d be at, the place where they would find her body along with all of her belongings – wallet, cell phone, ID cards – and a note detailing what she was wearing, birthmarks and even the small tattoo on her right wrist - one she had done the week before, an arrow wrapped in red string for Allison and Stiles, for both her best friends who had almost died to the Nogitsune (a tattoo that she kept hidden by a watch or bracelets so no one would know she had it) – so that she could be immediately identified not to be another Jane Doe.

She wandered around those woods barefoot for almost three hours, changing paths often so that in case someone from the pack would come looking for her, no one would catch her scent, not quickly enough, before she did what had to be done. To others it would probably seem like a suicide, that the girl who had voices in her head just couldn’t bear them anymore. And Lydia had been hollow for a while, so it wasn’t such a farfetched idea. Allison and Stiles almost dying - and she's sure they would have; Lydia had never felt so restless to let out a scream before -, her parents’ divorce and her mother’s constant absence, Jackson leaving, Aiden dying, finding out her grandmother had been killed. And not to forget her stupid banshee powers that Lydia hasn't grasped at all, even now, along with how distant she's been from Stiles ever since the Nogitsune and Malia. If it would look like a suicide because of depression, Lydia couldn’t care less. Still, that was not the reason she chose to do it. It didn't even cross her mind because her focus was Stiles. She’d offer herself to the other side for him, for his life, a true sacrifice. Stiles would live and that's what mattered.

Until it turned night, Lydia sat on the dirty ground of the clearing she'd perform the ritual at, leaves and dirt and small rocks messing with her white plain dress and hurting the flesh of her feet, legs and thighs; she didn't mind. She ignored the pain, all the hurt and suffering, even the whispers she had heard all day in her head, voices that warned her of the imminent danger she was about to put herself in. She focused on her breathing, she meditated. It was all that she could do not to let fear engulf her, to gather the strength she knew she'd need. And then came the moon and Lydia didn't hesitate. She lit the candles, prepared the ceremony, the only thought crossing her mind being _'Let him live'_. It wasn't long until she felt a soft wind passing by her and the voices in her head started whispering for her to leave. Things changed abruptly when she started feeling dizzy, weak and the voices yelled at Lydia to stay, calling her name, calling her to them in agonizing shouts that had made Lydia shiver, and she felt compelled to move. When she cut her wrist in a thin, deep line, just on top of the tattoo in an attempt to make the bond stronger, she clearly remembers that the voices hushed and cried, for her and with her, and then came silence for what felt like hours.

And then Stiles. She heard his scream so vividly she remembers thinking she was hallucinating right before she passed out, that maybe that was how it was supposed to work. It also occurred to her that maybe the ritual failed but by then she couldn't do anything else about it. After she came to her senses hours later, Scott had told her how Deaton had warned the pack of his suspicions. Once most of the pack noticed Lydia’s disappearance and Deaton was told about it, he alerted Scott that Lydia would probably go through with the ritual she had gone to him with. They started researching right away, Stiles being the one to find out the location she’d probably be in. It was a strike of luck – maybe fate – that he was right only to find her lifeless corpse as it collapsed to the ground. They took her body to the animal clinic; no rush to take her to the hospital when she was already technically dead. Deaton had instructed Stiles not to leave her side, to focus on their bond - their connection - until he got her back because even if it was an odd chance for saving her, they had to try. And he did; Stiles stayed and held her hand for most of the night, wordless as he focused on his task. It wasn't until Scott startled everyone saying he thought he heard her heart beat and Deaton checked for her pulse that Stiles let go of her and left.

He hadn’t said a word or saw anyone for the rest of the day and as for Lydia, no one would ask her about it nor did she say something. Deaton had already explained to the pack the how and why and no one could really blame Lydia for what she did; most of them would probably consider doing the same thing if the responsibility fell on them.

"I really would, do it all again in a heartbeat. I don't regret it," she continues, breaking out of her reverie. "I had to. I couldn't let him die."

“I know you would. You were so brave, Lydia. It takes quite the courage to do something like that," Melissa smiles fondly at the girl. "And just so you know, if I had been in your position with the same information you had, I would have done the exact same thing.”

Lydia knew Melissa would understand. That’s why she decided to talk to her. "He was so mad at me that night… I'd never heard him yell like that at someone." He had, to the point where they were both exhausted, and she took it all in without a comeback because she understood the pain she’d caused him, because she hoped that if the roles were reversed, Stiles would have done the same thing for her. Not that lately he had seemed to care about her as much as he did before, but her feelings for him were more than enough for the both of them by then.

"He had his reasons to be mad, Lydia, honey. You would too if it were him in your place, you know that."

"You should have seen him today, he looked so... So sad and broken, I... I forgave him, for all the things he said to me that night. It's the least I could do."

Melissa cleans the remaining tears from Lydia's face and caresses her cheeks softly. "You'll need time, both of you. You'll figure it out, you'll see. You always do." Lydia looks down at her wrist and traces the pale line that now figures on Allison’s arrow, lost in thought for a second. Melissa looks at it too. "You really love him, don't you?"

It takes Lydia by surprise that the question doesn’t bother her at all. The answer is nothing but an admission of the plain truth. She even breaks into a small smile as she straightens her back, feeling a little more self-assured. "What gave it away?"

Melissa kisses her temple. "You two are a goddamn tragedy. I just wish it was a less literal one.” Lydia rolls her eyes and Melissa chuckles, giving her an encouraging smile. “Everyone has been rooting for you for a long time."

"Well, I told him I loved him and he laughed at my face, so there’s that.” He did. He felt so bitter, so raged that night he wasn’t even thinking straight, but come to think of it he had already told her before that he’d lose his mind if she were to die so it was to be expected. “I think it's safe to say we're a long way from working things out. But I saved him, it’s all I care about."

Scott had told Melissa about it, how Stiles lost it that night and told Lydia all that he never had. "You'll have to live with the consequences of what you've done the same way he will, but Stiles... That boy, Lydia, loves you wholeheartedly, the same way I’m sure you love him. But he’s stubborn and a goddamn pain in the ass and fragile, he’s so fragile, Lydia."

“Like his dad.” Lydia digresses a little, knowing they’re both getting their point across. Melissa and the Sheriff are constantly a topic when it comes to romance and they never seem to do something about it.

Melissa catches it quickly. “Yes, like his dad. Now let me give you some advice. I can’t pretend I know what you two are going through, but… Give it time. You just got back so adjust, get acquainted with this crazy life of ours again. And you’ll see, in no time you two will look at each other, maybe talk even if casually, and it won’t hurt as much, I promise you.” She smiles wide and Lydia returns it thankfully. “And then next thing you know you’re dating and getting married and having kids. Life goes by in an instant, sweetheart, savor the moments.”

Lydia chuckles and laughs at the thought of a life with Stiles, one that she has had oh so many times. She blushes. “Can I direct a similar advice to you and the Sheriff or are we still pretending there’s nothing there?” At Melissa’s silence, red covers Lydia’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Melissa feels disarmed but the girl is getting under her skin easily, warmly. “I think you have the same authority to ask me about John as I have to ask you about Stiles.” She grins. “We’re not really pretending anymore, not on my part. We just… We all have our demons, you know?”

Lydia places her hand on top of Melissa’s and squeezes it lightly, smiling fondly. “Knowing that Stiles is pretty much a copy of his father, I’d advise you to be patient with him but on the other hand, and I swear I’m not trying to be insensitive, it’s not like you are getting any younger. You and the Sheriff have known each other for years and you work together so well. And I think part of why he’s holding back is still wife and Stiles, like somehow he’s betraying her memory or at least how he thinks Stiles will see it. Show him differently. You have been nothing but a second mother to that boy.”

At the banshee’s words, Melissa gets teary. “Thank you. You didn’t have to say that.”

Lydia smiles genuinely. “No. Thank you. Thank you for this.”

They finish their meal in between light conversations and comfortable smiles before heading to the loft.


	6. Chapter 6

Lydia and Melissa get to the loft about half an hour late, distracted by their heartfelt confessions and genuinely good conversation, and so when they arrive everyone else is already there. Both women are smiling, feeling – even if just a little - more carefree than they have in a while, their minds certainly less heavy, but they walk into Derek’s loft to find a desolating scene. Everyone is as far away from the couch as possible, where the Sheriff is sitting with Stuart at his right and his son at his left, and all three of them are crying as hard as any of the others have ever seen them.

Their breaths catch in their throats and the air gets stuck in their lungs, Lydia and Melissa rapidly sharing a concerned glance between them, then looking at the others for some sort of explanation. Everyone is quiet, sadness all over their features as some of them murmur quietly to someone else, others keeping to themselves as the scene unfolds. Allison glances at Lydia, slightly nodding in what Lydia is sure is Stiles’ direction, but as the redhead turns to look at Melissa for some guidance on what to do, she catches sight of who she hadn’t yet and blue eyes flash right at her, and even from across the room Lydia can see how cold, angry, raging they are as they stare back at the petite strawberry blonde, and Lydia can’t help but to flinch. Malia.

Derek automatically moves to stand in front of the werecoyote, flashing his own blue eyes at his cousin for the girl to stay in her place. At that, Malia growls lowly and looks around to find everyone with their eyes on her except for Melissa, who is murmuring to Lydia words that make Malia relieve the past few months, the familiar sickening feeling setting itself in the pit of her stomach. She takes a deep breath to calm her agitation, and without a word she leaves the loft, without looking back – not even at Stiles - and storming past Lydia, who is holding her breath not knowing what to expect.

Stiles watches the girl leave, soon propping his head on his hands and sighing, his elbows resting on his knees. The Sheriff places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly, and Stiles meets his dad’s gaze with an accepting, faint smile. The man nods towards the door this time, smiling at the newcomers between tears and little sobs, Stiles following suit. His gaze searches _hers_ with a mix of pleading and regret, relief and lost hope all at the same time and Lydia can’t figure out if it’s because of her, Malia or even the both of them. Or maybe it’s just the situation at hand but despite the reasons why Stiles looks so broke - or despite the vow she had made to herself to stay away from him, to stop prying into his life and just let him live on without her even if it killed her inside -, Lydia finds herself inexplicably walking towards him and the two other men, Melissa trailing close behind her.

The others can’t really do much but to watch them, and it’s so painful to see that Scott figures that they might need a minute or two by themselves to ease into it. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us,” he murmurs to his mom before leaving the living room with everyone except the five in question.

When they're by themselves and before Lydia can ask what's happening, Melissa lets out a breathy " _Oh_ " when her eyes find what Stiles is holding in his hand, the older woman stilling completely and looking saddened at the Sheriff, who just shakes his head and bites his quivering lower lip in an attempt to not let another sob escape.

For a moment, Melissa forgets why she came to the loft and that, right now, there are two boys who remarkably resemble one another. Because what matters at the moment is what the Stilinski men have to be feeling right now. She moves promptly, kneeling before the Sheriff and finding his hands to hold in hers as he bends forward to cry on her shoulder silently.

Stuart just stares at them, mute and without much of a reaction out of fear of doing something he shouldn't, quieting his cries after a little while. Not Stiles, though. Stiles tightens his grip on an old photograph he has in one of his hands - a photograph that Lydia has yet to see what's in it - and shares a glance with Melissa, who moves one of her hands away from the Sheriff's to cup Stiles' cheek with a small smile and a gaze that tells him that they'll be okay, everything will be okay. She wipes away one stray tear as he lets out a sob.

Stiles nods in understanding to ease her concerns but still feeling conflicted. It's both easy and hard for him to see her as a motherly figure, especially right now. His eyes look for Lydia's next, finding that she's closer than he thought, standing just beside him.

Against her best resolution, Lydia sits on the vacant spot near him, one of her hands instinctively finding his free one to help him, ease his pain, anchor him because that’s all she’s ever wanted – to have Stiles be safe, alive, okay -, but Stiles refrains from her touch so quickly that she almost gets back up in embarrassment.

His cheeks turn red instantly much like hers, and Stiles looks at Lydia confused, incredulous and beat. "You don't have to do that," he murmurs, guilt overcoming him. Like they haven't messed up things between them enough already.

Curiously, Lydia thinks the same thing but reads it differently, because they have messed up things between them so much in the last few months that she doesn't really care anymore. She had tried to get him out of her mind while she was away, she had promised herself that she'd let him be but she finds that she can't. It was never a realistic idea to begin with. She needs him, and he needs her.

She reaches for him again and this time Stiles lets her though still hesitant, looking down at his lap to find her hand holding his in a tight grip like they haven't done it in a million years, and so he lets out a relieved breath. He thought he'd never get to do that again.

“Who’s that?” Lydia asks almost timidly, not trusting her own voice at the moment.

Stiles passes her the picture, a small smile playing on his lips as he’s taken back to the past but not quite so. The others’ attention turn to him. “It’s…” They talk about it so rarely that Stiles wavers, waiting for a nod from his dad to continue. “It’s my mom.”

Lydia holds her breath. This is a subject they have never talked about and she knows for a fact that neither Stiles nor his dad mention it frequently. She looks at the portrait of a beautiful woman, a brunette with long straight hair that wears a smile as big as those she’s used to see on Stiles. It’s obvious that even though Stiles resembles his dad so much, he’s got a lot of his mother’s features, like the honey eyes and the high cheekbones, the hair color, his adorable nose. His lips though, his jaw, are definitely more like his dad’s. The picture looks recent, like too recent for it to be real, and Claudia does look a little older than Lydia had thought she would have looked like before she died.

Stiles continues, answering her unasked question. “Well, I guess it’s not exactly my mom. It’s Stuart’s,” he says, waving his free hand in the boy’s direction. “But it’s her. It’s definitely her.”

Lydia doesn’t really think about it, she just entwines her fingers with Stiles’ like it’s something they do every day, reassuring him that she’s not going anywhere when Stiles looks at her like at any moment she’ll vanish. God, she has missed his touch. “She’s beautiful,” she whispers. It sounds so sincere that it almost makes Stiles rub his thumb on the back of her hand in thanks.

At the mention of the foreign name – or still a bit foreign at least to her -, Melissa finally notices Stuart properly, taking her time to study both him and Stiles like the others had done that morning. Astounded, the only thing she’s able to let out is a shaky “H- how?”

“We don’t know,” the Sheriff answers, wiping away his tears with his sleeve. “I just found out myself.”

Melissa directs a charming smile to the boy and holds out her hand for him. “Hello, then. I’m Melissa. I’m Scott’s mom.”

Stuart shakes it, offering a smile of his own in return. “Stuart. But I guess you already know that.”

Lydia nods in his direction. “Yes. I’ve filled her in on what we know so far, which I guess isn’t that much but she’s all caught up.”

Melissa’s instincts surface easily. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you feel like there’s something different? Like anything out of the ordinary?” she asks Stuart. ”Oh, sorry. I’m a nurse,” she explains at the surprised face he’s making.

“Aside from being in a completely different reality with people I don’t know and others that I do know, but who are not who I think they are, without any clue of how I got here or why?” he asks sarcastically, his tone much like Stiles’ usual. “I think I’m fine. The veterinarian, Dr. hmm…” he furrows his brows, trying to remember.

“Dr. Deaton,” Stiles helps.

“Thanks. Dr. Deaton already asked me a few things. I don’t think anything’s different, not really, at least that I’m aware of.”

“Then why were you crying, sweetheart?” she asks tenderly.

“I uh-” He looks embarrassed at the Sheriff, then at Stiles. Both of them nod in understanding; it’s a weird situation for all of them but there’s not much more to do about that for the time being. “I sort of just met my dad,” he mutters, glancing at the Sheriff apologetically and receiving a small pat on the back in return. “Or Stiles’ dad, I guess, but… My dad too. I think,” he continues, confused himself.

“Oh, of course.” Melissa remembers Lydia telling her about it, how Stuart’s father had died when he was little.

“And what about the photograph?” Lydia asks, curiosity getting the best of her. She returns it to Stiles as she waits for an answer, his fingers grazing hers for just a moment longer than necessary.

“I always carry it with me hidden on my phone, you know, just underneath the cover. So when uh…” Stuart hesitates, suddenly not sure of how to address the man who’s not his dad, but technically is. In another world. “When Stiles’ dad arrived and we actually met and got to talk, or cry our eyes out really because we’ve been crying nonstop for like half an hour now, I remembered that I always have it with me so I checked my phone for it and thankfully it was there. I really didn’t want to lose it.” Stiles hands it back to his rightful owner, a smile taking over Stuart’s lips at the memory of the day pictured in his hands. “We took it eight months ago. Because she had to raise me by herself ever since my dad died, she never got to finish her studies so she’s been working on getting a degree. That day she had finally aced a test she was not so sure she was gonna pass, so I took her out to dinner to celebrate. She looked so happy…” Stuart grins proudly, trying his best to hold back fresh tears.

“She’s really beautiful,” Lydia remarks again honestly. “You two look a lot like her.”

Stiles smiles at a memory of his own. “She used to say that all of my good traits came from her and the bad ones from you, remember?” he asks his dad.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong.” The Sheriff chuckles genuinely, and it’s the first nice feeling he’s had since he came into the loft not even an hour ago. At first he was obviously dumbstruck, couldn’t believe what he was seeing because he could swear he was just looking at his son in double, which is already a challenge in itself because he can barely handle one Stiles, let alone two. When he finally realized, with the help of the others and their insights on the matter, that one boy was actually his son and the other wasn’t, John had had to sit down to regain his breath and put his thoughts in order. Stuart had been very, very quiet until Stiles stepped in to explain to his dad that Stuart hadn’t technically really met him – or well, his dad -, and so their introduction was well beyond more awkward than the Sheriff could have ever fathomed it would be. Not that he’d actually ever imagine getting to know a son who’s not his but apparently is.

The man gets that there are a lot of things supernatural-related that he’s yet to be told and this might just be another one, but he still sat in silence for a few minutes just eyeing both boys, much to everyone’s exasperation. Even though his facial expressions actually delivered, it wasn’t until he got to talk to Stuart that it downed on him that the boy was a human being too (well, supernatural, but still), someone who has experienced memories, emotions, just like the rest of them; someone who’s currently terrified for not really knowing what’s happening so the Sheriff gave in, sitting beside the boy and introducing himself. Tears followed, and when they started discussing how different their lives actually are and have been up until this point, Stiles joined in on the conversation. When the subject turned to Claudia, all three of them were teary; Stiles and the Sheriff because they’ll never see her again, Stuart because he fears he might lose his chance as well.

xxxxxxxxxx

When everyone gets back to the living room, Deaton gathers as much information from Stuart as he can, taking mental notes of every details he deems important and asking Stiles a few questions as well. The man leaves soon after to do some research on the matter, and Stuart reluctantly agrees on leaving with the Sheriff, Parrish and Melissa so that the officers can leave the two at the hospital for some exams. If anyone asks, they'll just say he's Stiles. Stuart blatantly disagrees on having to take off his glasses because he can't see a palm in front of him without them, but he has no other choice but to do so, at least when he'll be surrounded by people who actually know Stiles and that are not members of the pack and who aren’t in on the situation.

Lydia tells Stuart that she'll see him later or maybe tomorrow, because weird enough, the same way that she feels like there's always something pulling her towards Stiles, now there's another something pulling her towards Stuart as well, even though it doesn't feel quite the same to her. But there's something to it, there’s something to that strange feeling that has Lydia wondering what their connection might be.

Her _moment_ with Stiles is quickly disrupted when the others come back into the room and they both feel shy all of a sudden, bothered even, like they were caught doing something that is strictly forbidden. She doesn't look at him again until she leaves the loft a few hours later and neither does him, fully aware of everyone's eyes on them and of how the atmosphere seemed to change around them so quickly. They feel like strangers and it's like their moment just before never even happened.

Stiles stays with Derek, waiting for Stuart to be brought back so that he can leave without the risk of there being two Stiles walking around Beacon Hills. It's not like their hometown hasn't seen strangest things by now but it's for the best to play it safe. By the time he's supposed to head home, around dinner time already, Stiles can't. He just can't. How's he supposed to go home like nothing happened, like Lydia hadn't just gotten back from France, hadn't just been in the same room he was, even held his hand?

He shots a quick text to his dad letting him know that he’ll be going home late tonight, and he’s sure that the man understands because he just replies back with ‘ _Be safe. And remember. Listen’._ Stiles knows exactly what the Sheriff means, they’ve discussed it pretty much every day since it happened, since Lydia left. No matter how mad Stiles might be at Lydia, no matter how insane what she did was, she has the right to explain herself and actually be heard this time, not yelled at. And Stiles owes it to her to just listen.

He drives until he reaches the preserve, parking at the edge of the woods where it's closer to the place where he saw Lydia fall to the ground all those weeks ago, the place where Stiles would swear he died too, along with her. He visits that clearing often, mostly out of uncertainty; if she'd ever come back to Beacon Hills, to the pack, to him. And sometimes, while he's there and all by himself, he hears faint murmurs dancing in the wind and his mind wanders, thinking of how maybe they’re like the voices she hears in her head all the time even if he's sure that he's delirious when the sounds move around him, lovesick and hurt and dead inside because she's not there, missing her to death.

Not this time, though. This time he doesn't walk through the woods to find that spot to feel closer to her; she's already home. Instead, he opts for sitting on the hood of the Jeep by the main road for a few hours, laying back against his windshield as he tries to block any thoughts of the last few weeks and failing miserably, just staring at the sky above him like it might provide some clues on what to do next.

xxxxxxxxxx

Lydia has been restless with thoughts of Stiles ever since she left the loft, of how his touch lingers on her skin still. She hasn’t been able to fall asleep even though the last time she slept was in France, just a little over 24 hours ago. She’s been lying on her bed for a while now, eyes closed as she remembers all that happened today, all that’s happened since she did what she had to do in order to save _him_. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought of the consequences of her actions at the time, not really, but then again she hadn’t considered surviving it either. And now she’s left with unanswered questions after questions on what to do, what to think, what to say.

She has classical music playing in the background to help her focus, a mere hum that roars loud in her sensitive ears and she’s so concentrated in it that that’s why. That’s why she doesn't notice the Jeep that just parked in her driveway, why she doesn't notice him frantically calling out her name in the dead of night. She doesn't even hear the doorbell ring but she knows that he's there. She feels it, a disconcerting electric current settling itself under skin all of a sudden, making Lydia sit on her bed rapidly and blinking her eyes open immediately. It leaves her agitated, flushed, utterly breathless. She doesn't need to check any windows to confirm her suspicions because she knows she's right, of course she's right and he's there. Stiles is knocking on her front door at nearly one in the morning.

Thankfully her mom will only be returning home in two days but Lydia knows - much like Stiles with the Sheriff - that she'd understand, given everything that happened in the months prior to this exact moment. Lydia also knows that she shouldn't head downstairs to meet him because neither of them is emotionally prepared for the conversation she knows they’re bound to have eventually.

It's pointless to think about it now though, because before she can stop herself, Lydia rushes to the front door to just stand there, stopping herself at the last second. She looks stupidly at the wooden board, searching with the voices within for any help but the truth is she doesn't hear them quite the same anymore, not since she offered herself to the other side for him. She's also sleep deprived and jet lag has been kicking in for a few hours but none of it matters now. What matters is that he's on the other side of that door, her name rolling out of his tongue in repeated pleas, mere murmurs that she welcomes like if he was whispering it right next to her, and even though she’s dead tired she moves.

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, for those of you who weren’t aware, I had a poll going because I obviously can’t focus on all my fics at once and so, as of now, all of my fics are on semi-hiatus except for “I see you”, “Know better”, “The ways of our love”, “Mysterious ways” and “As fate would have it”, meaning I won’t update the remaining as often and probably only when these five have been updated at least twice. I want to keep these going more regularly.
> 
> To all of you who voted, thank you! I’m writing as much for myself as for you, thus why I thought of this. Feel free to message me about any of them as always, be it here or on twitter @youmakemewander. Suggestions/ideas for any of my on-going fics and constructive criticism are always appreciated as well. I’ll pick one of the five to update next. I hope you cuties have a great weekend and again, thank you 


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